


Pain and Gain

by Timaelan



Series: Of Sweat and Blood [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe: Planet Vegeta Exists, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28944423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timaelan/pseuds/Timaelan
Summary: Back from his failed mission on Planet Kenam, Trunks is now supposed to travel to Earth to wed the daughter of an Earthling leader but first and foremost, he’s asked to accept the death of Goten who’s been missing for months. This is more than he can bear and maybe it’s time for him to stand up and regain some control over his life. However, no gain comes without pain.
Relationships: Trunks Briefs/Son Goten
Series: Of Sweat and Blood [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122911
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. As you may have noticed this story is part 2 of a series. You don't really need to read part 1 to understand the story. You'll find some mention of previous events up and there, but they won't be important to follow the plot.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy the ride.

The weak beeping of a machine barely disturbed the awkward silence of the lab. Nobody dared to speak and it felt as if the doctors had stopped breathing at all.

Trunks was sitting on the examination table with his feet dangling above the floor. Leaning forward, he was studying his toes in disbelief, trying to flex them and wondering if they still belonged to him.

Since he’d been back from his mission, three days ago, he’d spent his time going through countless medical examinations and cross-examinations, and yet, his whole body was still sore. His muscles were especially reluctant to work normally and he wasn't even able to walk properly so far.

He'd been sure that some time in a regeneration tank would be enough to cleanse his blood of Chard's crap, but it seemed he had been wrong on that matter and he was growing seriously concerned.

The last medical tests were just over and he was looking forward to hearing of their results, but the doctors wouldn't tell him anything before his Royal father was here to hear them as well.

After what seemed an eternity, the door of the lab opened at last and everything went back to life in a split second.

"Your Majesties," the doctors greeted in unison with an immediate salute.

The young patient looked up at the newcomers. Much to his relief, his parents had come alone, leaving the usual Councilors out of their business for once. He didn't bother saluting the Royal pairing, but having only pants on, he grabbed his T-shirt and put it on in order to look more decent in front of the Queen.

Bulma was standing still, but he could say she was fighting her urge to hug him. She had become good at hiding her feelings though and although she had certainly been worried- sick during his mission on Kenam, the gleaming of her eyes was the only hint of her emotion. She was wearing a black, tight dress falling down under her knees and a black ribbon was holding her strict bun in place. Her style was very Earthling, and yet, even so, her allure was up to the Saiyan Crown.

Trunks' eyes drifted to his father. Vegeta had probably no will whatsoever to hug his son. He was wearing a very official armor with all possible symbols of Saiyan Royalty. The dark red of his long cloak looked made the fabric look like it was soaked with blood and it made the outfit especially intimidating. Yet, despite the solemnity of his appearance, Trunks didn’t miss the concern in his eyes.

The King turned to the medical staff. "I was told that you are over with your tests?" he asked.

"We are Your Majesty," one of the doctors confirmed with a step forward. He was older than the others, certainly the boss of the team. He cleared his throat and started his explanations. "His Highness was given a very powerful product attacking nerves and numbing muscles. The composition is unfamiliar and we guess it's something unique and typical of Kenam –"

"Why is the Prince still affected by that shit? He spent hours in a regeneration tank, this crap should be over now," Vegeta cut off impatiently.

The Saiyan doctor cringed, doing his best to keep looking his King in the eyes. "Fact is this- thing is not just a classic drug flowing in His Highness' blood. It’s plaguing his cells, so -"

Vegeta’s eyes had narrowed in deep annoyance and it was enough of a sign to have the Saiyan quit the medical babbling and go straight to the point. "We're not sure if and when the poison will leave the Prince's body," he concluded hastily.

"What do you mean? Won't his condition ever be back to normal?" Vegeta growled with a deep frown.

"We can't be sure of anything, Your Majesty. He's doing better already, so we have good hope that his state might improve, but as far as we know- it could take years."

The King welcomed the news with a stern silence while Trunks rubbed a weary hand on his face to hide his shock.

"Does it hurt?" Bulma asked in a weak voice.

"We give him painkillers, Your Majesty. The trouble is the muscles are stiff and physical efforts exhaust him. We assume this effect will fade away in the end but he might still have some sort of paralysis crisis crippling him once in a while," the doctor replied.

Trunks looked down, liking the sight of the floor better than his mother's worried gaze. He felt dazed. He could live with the aching, he could also live with some unpleasant after-effect, but how was he supposed to make it with a Saiyan Crown hanging over his head? He'd always been a Hybrid in his people's mind, now he would also be a cripple.

"Leave us alone," Vegeta's voice ordered coldly.

Trunks heard the steps of the Saiyans pouring out the lab and the door sliding close in their wake. As soon as everything went still, he felt his mother's arms embracing him. He didn't resist her and inhaled the sweet scent of her clothes. "God, Trunks, you're alive at least," she murmured in a trembling voice.

He returned her hug softly.

She kissed his head gently and rubbed her hand on his back in a comforting gesture. "We'll find something. I'm sure there's a cure."

She pulled away from him and smiled at him after a last kiss on his forehead. He knew that "everything's not lost" smile of her. It was both warming and scary.

He was startled by the touch of his father's hand on his shoulder.

He hadn't noticed Vegeta walking closer to him. The Saiyan King was staring thoughtfully at his son. "You did well, son. All the Saiyans have fallen under the influence of that fucking Planet but Gohan and you made it."

Trunks was taken aback by his father’s attempt at comforting him. The meaning of his words was even more puzzling. In Trunks' opinion, the mission on Kenam had been a total disaster, ending with hundreds of dead soldiers and a crippled Prince, and considering his own survival as a success, or as proof of his strength was the last thing on his mind. “We only made it because we’re half Earthling,” he mumbled bitterly.

Vegeta's hand squeezed his shoulder. “You made it because you were smart,” he corrected. “You should be dead by now, but you're not and that's the point. You’ll get better soon and even if you don’t, we all know now that you’re capable to cope with calamities."

Trunks frowned and watched his mother nod in approval. “Still. Many people died under my command,” he pointed out.

Vegeta's hand left his shoulder and the King's face went back to his usual coldness. "That’s a soldier's fate. You couldn't save them. Our scientists misjudged the damn Planet when they sent our squads on the mission. They are the one to blame in the first place.”

The statement twisted Trunks' guts as memories of Pepper popped up in his mind. She had sensed that something was wrong from the very beginning. She had tried to warn him and he hadn't listened. He'd been a total prick and even though he could put his behavior on the Planet's influence, he still felt deep guilt.

Bulma seemed to perceive her son's confusion and she hugged him again. “You’re back now. You're safe and you will heal,” she murmured in his ear.

A crackling voice coming from the intercom broke the quietness. “Your Majesties, it’s time.”

Bulma pulled away from Trunks with a dejected sigh. “We got to go, darling. We'll see each other at the Ceremony.”

Trunks scowled wordlessly as the door slid open, revealing a group of Councilor waiting behind.

Just a glimpse at them made Trunks sick. They were craving to hear about the Prince’s condition, already calculating the political consequences. When he would be King Trunks would send each of them on Missions as nasty as Kenam, just to see how it would turn out.

As soon as his parents exited the lab the crowd of meek Councilors surrounded them. His mother gave him with a last sad glance and the whole procession stepped away on the corridor.

While the group moved on, the old Chamberlain stayed behind. Trunks met his wary eyes and failed to return his faint smile. The old Saiyan came into the lab to see him. “We're all relieved to have you back, Your Highness.”

The man certainly meant what he said, and yet Trunks wondered somehow if his return to Vegitasei was really a blessing. He felt so down. “You know I can’t die without the Council’s permission,” he replied in sarcasm.

Saying so he climbed down the examination table. However, his moves were so clumsy and his muscles were so painfully reluctant to support his weight that he almost tumbled down.

The Chamberlain rushed closer to help him, but Trunks pushed him away. “Let go of me,” he hissed in irritation.

“Doctor!” the old Saiyan called, “Give him a strong painkiller for the ceremony and escort him to his room so that he can get ready.”

“I can still take care of myself,” Trunks spat by snatching the box of pills out of the doctor's hand. He seized the stick he used to walk and exited the lab. No one was bold enough to protest but he could feel everyone's eyes locked on him as he limped away along the corridor.

Crossing the palace to join his room was a rough way. He had to deal with the agony of his body and face the puzzled glances of the people on his way. His outfit wasn't up to his standard either. His pants and T-shirt with the Capsule logo made him look very much like an Earthling, something Saiyans would regard as highly improper for a Royal personality. The stick was even worse. The weakness of his legs and the effort he needed to take a single step were plain to see.

Everyone saluted him nevertheless. He was doing his best to avoid eye contact as he couldn't help but remember Kenam. He realized that the soldiers had come to somehow frighten him. What if they decided to lash at him? What would he do? He was helpless. He knew his fears were ridiculous. No one would dare to be disrespectful here in the Royal Palace.

What did they think of him deep down their minds though?

Regardless, he was their Prince. He shrugged off his bleak thoughts and forced his head up, trying to look adamant and confident despite his condition. The faces he saw were unaffected, but he knew better than relying on these emotionless attitudes.

He was sweating and aching like mad when he eventually closed the door of his apartment. The place was empty and the quietness felt great. He slumped in an armchair and grabbed his head between his hands.

So, that was it. He would stay that way, maybe until the end of his life. Hardly able to walk. Suffering most of the time. Exhausted by the slightest effort.

And alone.

For the Council had decided that Goten was dead. His funeral was to take place in less than an hour and after that, his life-long companion would become a simple memory, some mental picture growing blurry as time would go by.

Trunks’ eyes met his royal uniform hanging on a hook on the wall. A servant had certainly prepared it for the ceremony to come, and for some reason, the young man felt a wave of deep anger washing over him at the sight. He grabbed the stick and hurled it across the room to the ghostly form of the outfit. He missed his aim and the stick bounced against the wall, yet the move triggered a fierce pain in Trunks’ shoulder.

He moaned at the aching. His eyes were watering in frustration and a nervous sob escaped his lips. His trembling hand went to his pocket, searching for the painkillers. He uncapped the box feverishly and swallowed two pills.

Then, he tossed in the cozy chair and waited for his heartbeat to go back to a normal pace.

Someone had closed the curtains to shield the mighty sun of Vegitasei and except for a ray of dazzling light breaking through a small gap, the room was plunged in a fresh twilight.

As Trunks was pondering silently on his situation, he came to wish he had Gohan by his side. Gohan always knew what to do. He was clever and he was strong. In a way, Chard had been right to say that he deserved the Crown more than Trunks did.

Trunks hadn’t seen him since their landing on Vegitasei. While the Prince had been busy being tended by all possible doctors living in the palace, his friend had family businesses to take care of. He had to comfort his mother all by organizing his brother’s funeral.

Trunks and Gohan had no official reason to spend time together either way. Gohan was a Commander of his own leaving for any mission the King would assign him to and Trunks had to attend all the political events a Prince was expected to attend. They weren't meant to enjoy each other's company beyond some stolen moments, no matter the circumstances.

Trunks was realizing how pleasant his life had been before. It had all ended the day the damn Councilors had claimed Goten should be a Commander on his own. The hell with them.

Their stupid rules had taken Goten away from him and they would now keep Gohan apart as well. In return, the Council was willing to give him an Earthling wife he didn’t even know. He frankly didn’t give a shit about her either.

In a way, he felt awfully screwed.

The pain had faded away. Trunks struggled to his feet and went to the bar. He filled himself a glass of alcohol and walked to the bay window. He noted that the painkillers allowed him to move more easily. As long as the aching was kept at bay, he was able to act almost normally.

He snatched the curtains open and was rewarded with a flow of sunlight pouring inside the room. He opened the glass door and a breath of hot air welcomed him as he stepped out on the terrace overhanging the town of Vegitasei. A faint rumor was rising from the streets far below. He clutched the rail for support as he contemplated the sight. Some rich houses were draped in yellow banners, meaning mourning time in honor of Bardock's grandson.

He sipped his glass with a frown. Bitterness was squeezing his throat. He had to admit that he still couldn’t give up on his friend. Goten couldn't be dead. He would feel it. Life couldn’t be so fucked up.

“Your Highness?” Teeb’s voice called behind his back.

Trunks ignored him and after a while, he heard his Second walk out on the terrace. The Saiyan paused a few steps away from his Prince, waiting in vain for a sign of attention.

“The Council fixed up your trip to Earth,” Teeb eventually announced in a low voice.

Trunks tensed at the words. He downed nervously the rest of his glass and turned around to face the Saiyan.

Teeb was wearing his official uniform. The dark red armor and black cloak enhanced the gold shining in his eyes. He looked truly handsome and impressive. Nothing near what he'd been as he'd been wandering through the jungle with white pajamas stained with blood and madness flickering in his orbs.

Since their return, the Saiyan had grown shy and distant with his Master. He was certainly haunted by memories of his lustful - and oh! so disrespectful – attitude back on Kenam. Trunks was inwardly pained by this formal behavior. As a matter of fact, he’d learned to appreciate Teeb’s personality and what they’d been through together had forged a special connection between them. Not exactly a friendship, but some kind of closeness that Trunks missed since Teeb went back to his official role.

Yet, none of them wished to be reminded of what they had been back on Kenam. What happened in Kenam has to stay on Kenam.

Oblivious of his Master's meditation, Teeb resumed mercilessly. “We are to depart in two days. We’ll travel on the same ship as Lord Gohan who’s taking his mother back to Earth. We’ll stay on Earth for one month, then your mother and sister will join us to celebrate the engagement and we’ll go back to Vegitasei with your bride to celebrate your wedding there.”

“My bride,” Trunks repeated in a thoughtful murmur.

Teeb looked down in a sorry stance. “You’re summoned by the Council tomorrow morning to review the diplomatic details before we leave.”

Trunks gritted his teeth. “Serve me another one,” he ordered by handing his empty glass to his Second.

“Are you sure? The Ceremony is to start soon. You should get dressed now,” Teeb objected hesitantly as he took the glass.

“Go,” Trunks commanded in a growl.

The Saiyan obliged and disappeared swiftly inside. Trunks turned back to Vegitasei Panorama. The sun was ruthlessly burning his skin but he couldn’t care less. He studied the proud building erecting around the Palace. Their tall figures felt suffocating. They seemed alive, greedily claiming his body and soul, demanding him to abandon Goten, to live a life of loneliness in the arms of a foreign wife surrounded by servile and cold subjects.

Teeb came back with the glass and Trunks snatched it out of his hand.

“I remind you that you still need to hear about the proceeding of the ceremony, Your Highness. Do you need me to help you get ready?” The Second offered sheepishly.

Trunks tilted his head with a glare at him. “What? You really think I’m not capable of fastening an armor properly, is that so?”

“I… I was told you were aching pretty badly, so I thought –“

“Get the fuck out of here,” Trunks cut off coldly.

The Saiyan respectfully stepped back. “I’ll be just behind the door if you need anything,” he insisted before walking away under his Prince’s stern gaze.

That was still another issue. Trunks wasn’t even sure that his strength would ever come back. For now, he could hardly summon some shitty amount of ki and he hadn’t even tried to fly so far.

He climbed up the railing of the balcony and stood up carefully face to face with the huge city. As he kept sipping his glass, he stared at the void in front of him. It felt dizzying and he wondered if he would be able to fly if he jumped. He closed his eyes to focus on his inner energy. His ki was buried deep down somewhere, he could sense it, but no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t respond to his call.

Finally, he opened his eyes with a sigh and finished his glass. He threw it away and watched the small item fall down. At some point, it disappeared from his sight and the muffled sound of glass shattering eventually echoed somewhere below.

After a second thought, he jumped down the railing back to the terrace to go back inside.

He was boiling inside, feeling somehow trapped in an utterly frustrating situation. And yet, he had no clue about what to do.

He went to take down his uniform hanging on the wall but he froze at the last minute. The dark red cloak was the exact copy of his father’s, his family’s exclusive attribute. The armor was shiny white with golden edging, massive and heavy. And of course, there were matching gloves with that. It wasn’t the first time he was to wear his Royal outfit, but right now, it felt a bit scary, a bit oversized. A bit too much.

His attention was caught by the long item hanging next to the uniform. The sword he’d taken back from Kenam. He took it with care and unsheathed it. For a split second the idea of showing up at the Ceremony with the weapon at his side crossed his mind. What a scandal it would be. He smiled.

“Your Highness?” Teeb’s voice interrupted him once again.

The Second had come back without Trunks noticing. “You’re not done, yet,” the Saiyan noted with a hint of disapproval in his tone.

Trunks pointed the sword at him. “I won't attend the ceremony.”

Teeb frowned in disbelief. “This – You have to go. Lord Goten was a close friend of yours.”

“And he still is,” the Prince replied with a graceful swirl of the blade.

The Second shifted nervously. He was unsettled. “Your Highness – You can’t do that. Your father will be furious.”

Trunks sighed and lowered the sword. “I am somehow furious too. So what? Who cares? Just go tell them I won't show up,” he mumbled.

“Your Highness, I beg you. Think about it. Think about Bardock's family. Think about Lord Gohan. His mother is wild with grief,” Teeb pleaded further.

Trunks scowled. “Yeah, poor Chichi. Saiyans ruined her life. I'm pretty sure she won't give a damn if I don't come. They told her that her son is dead and I bet nothing matters to her anymore. As for Lord Gohan, he will understand me.”

Teeb didn’t move. He kept staring at his Master with wary eyes, clearly trying to figure something to convince him out of his madness.

All of a sudden, Trunks took a swift step to him and in a quick blow, he brought the blade just under the Second’s chin. “Go tell them and leave me alone,” he snapped.

The Saiyan cringed at the unexpected move. The gold in his orbs was flashing in disbelief and pain. “As you wish,” he murmured in defeat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Thanks for all the support.

Standing in front of Vegitasei Royal Council had always filled Trunks with fright.

It gathered in the Royal Hall and the place in itself was quite intimidating. The high carved ceiling and the wide, polished floor turned the slightest sounds into ghostly echoes while the walls were covered with crude paintings of feral Saiyan soldiers butchering awful creatures of all races. The dark colors of the pictures tended to blend in the shadows of the room and, as he was a little boy, the little Prince sometimes had the sensation that the warriors and their opponents were about to come to life.

However, the most impressive sight remained his father sitting on his massive throne, right in the middle of a row of six Counsellors. The Council was larger than that but the King was used to reduce it to six members for solemn hearings. The choice depended on the topic at hand but it was always including Bardock and the Chamberlain.

The dreadful assembly was presiding on a podium three steps above the audience, the Councilors dressed up in bulky armors and glaring sternly around as they sat on smaller chairs set up on each side of their King.

The show was definitely freaky.

Since he was of age, Trunks had been invited to sit with them once in a while. A smaller throne would be set up next to his father's to have him placed according to his rank, but he would hardly be allowed to speak and no one would ever ask his opinion. He was only meant to listen and to learn. In these moments, the young man always did his best to stick to his Princely role, but these sittings actually rather left him with the feeling of being a pathetic outsider.

There was no small throne that day though.

The Prince was standing three steps below his King as suited for any accountable subject, and although the young man was acting as emotionless as possible, he knew he was about to pay dearly for doing such a mindless thing as skipping an official ceremony.

He blessed the painkillers for allowing him to stand at least properly.

A Prince’s fault was an utterly delicate matter and the hall had been emptied of any unwanted witness. However, a slight movement on his left caught Trunks’ attention and he realized with some astonishment that Goku was there too, standing apart near a wall.

His presence was something unheard of in this place. The Council had maybe considered that the Earthling Saiyan, being personally concerned by the Prince's misfit, had to attend his trial. They might even intend to ask Trunks to apologize to him for missing his son's funerals, a thing the young man was far from ready to do.

Yet, whatever the reason was, the warrior's blank expression made the Prince even more nervous. Goku had been the one to save him after all and the Prince's absence at Goten’s funeral might have felt like a very ungrateful act to him.

For now, though, the tall Saiyan looked totally unimpressed his arms crossed as he was seemingly waiting for the show to begin.

Trunks took a silent deep breath and stared back at the bleak assembly sitting in front of him. The atmosphere was tense. No one had missed that the King was fuming.

“Can you imagine how embarrassed your mother and I were while sitting next to your empty throne at the ceremony? Can you just, one second, picture how shameful we felt towards Lord Bardock’s family? How dare you?” Vegeta eventually growled in an unexpectedly low voice.

He didn’t word anything else but it was enough. His deep voice seemed to float in the air while a shiver ran down the Prince's spine. The young male swallowed hard, his heart hammering his chest at a crazy rate as he was facing his father’s stern glare.

He took a deep breath again to gather all the courage he had and raised up his head to make sure everyone would get his point. “I don't believe that Goten's dead.”

The statement triggered the Council's restlessness. The king remained motionless, though, his eyes locked on his son.

“Your Highness, why such stubbornness? You’re no longer a little boy as to deny obviousness,” the Chamberlain berated.

The old Saiyan had always stood as the nicest member of the Council and Trunks was somehow grateful for his soft way to say things.

“You only cause troubles,” Bardock's voice boomed. “Not only are you hinting that we would willingly leave our son behind, but you're acting more emotional than a Royal Prince should. You shame us all.”

Trunks didn’t flinch at the accusations. Goten’s grandfather was a piece of work of his own. He was the boiling hot version of his King. Hot-headed but smart, with a huge mouth and even huger muscles. Most of all, he was gifted with an uncanny stubbornness when his mind was set on something.

Vegeta’s scowl deepened. “What is it you're looking for, Trunks? You are to sit on my throne one day, you are to rule the Saiyan people and you won't make it by throwing a fit each time you're asked to face an unpleasant situation. You've nagged me to give you more responsibilities. You've complained that you were overprotected all the time and now that you're requested to behave as a Prince, you're acting like a selfish brat.”

Trunks nearly backed away. His father had never used his name in such official circumstances and it somehow felt as if he was doubting that his son was still deserving to be regarded as a Prince at this moment. And it hurt. Deeply.

Trunks forced himself to focus on Goten to fight the pain. He reminded himself of the last time he’d seen him the day he left for his damn first mission on his own. He recalled the knowing wink Goten had given him as he had rushed up the access ramp of his ship, half-an-hour late while his men were waiting for him to depart, unaffected by Bardock’s yelling at him about him being an embarrassment for the whole family. And the gleam in Goten’s eyes. He’d been so sure that Trunks and he would be soon reunited.

The Prince gritted his teeth and braced himself to reply. “Let me go to Prius, that pirate hole where they found the pieces of Goten's ship. Just let me take a look there. If I don't find anything, I'll - accept his death and I'll submit to all my princely duties.”

A disbelieving silence welcomed his offer. Bardock's glare hardened. One of the Councilors leaned over to his very pissed King and whispered something in his ear. Vegeta blurted an annoyed grunt at his murmur.

He gazed back at his son and repressed a deep sigh of annoyance. “You’re well-aware that this won't happen, aren't you? First, you'll find nothing on Prius. Bardock and Kakarott can tell you about it. They’ve turned the planet upside down for weeks with no result. Second, you're expected on Earth to meet your bride to be. Can you imagine the scandal if she hears that your trip to join her has been delayed because you went into some fanciful ghost hunting? Don’t you think people will wonder about your obsession for Goten?”

Bardock shrunk his nose and hissed in disgust.

Trunks had known his bargaining with the Council would be a harsh deal and he had anticipated the wedding’s issue. The arrangement with Earth was frustratingly ill-timed but he couldn't let go of Goten so easily. He owed him a bit of a fight. “Tell the Earthling I was injured during my mission on Kenam and I need some time to recover. I'll join her a couple of months later than scheduled at most. You have my word. Why would it make any difference now? Send Gohan as a messenger. He is to take his mother back to Earth anyway. Let me go and see Prius with my own eyes and I'll never stand up your authority again.”

To be honest he hated to trade his freedom that way and yet he had to face the fact that he hadn’t anything else to offer.

Vegeta huffed at that. Trunks could read his mind from afar. He literally could hear his voice moaning in his brain. _The brat sound so much like his mother, it's sickening._

“Your Majesty, if I may have a word,” a voice claimed.

Everyone turned to Goku in bewilderment. They had all been oblivious of his presence. A lump formed in Trunks’ throat as the tall Saiyan came near him in the middle of the hall. He looked like an unexpected complication to the Prince.

“The Prince has been kept out of most of the search for Goten and that’s why he keeps denying his death. I get that. I also understand the urge to have him wed the Earthling girl as soon as possible, but think about it, are you sure you want to send a groom in such poor condition?”

With that, Goku sent a ruthless nudge in Trunks ribs. The young man was caught off guard by the blow and he staggered aside with a hiss of pain.

Goku watched him with a matter-of-factly expression and stretched out his hand in his direction to invite the Council to consider his words. “You wouldn’t like Earthling people to think that the heir to the Saiyan Throne is actually a weak cripple, would you? He got a point when he says that he needs some time to recover, where is the harm in granting him his wish? Why not kill two birds with one stone? He’ll find nothing on Prius and he’ll come back in better shape and in a more compliant mindset.”

Goku paused to let the assembly process his idea. Then, noting that his speech was rewarded with a thoughtful silence, he resumed. “I'll go to Prius with him and I'll keep an eye on him to make sure he remains true to his word and come back to wed the Earthling girl. Gohan is high-ranked enough to meet the bride and let her know His Highness might be a little late due to his injury. No one needs to know the real reason after all.”

“Kakarrot, did you lose your mind too?” Bardock hissed in shock.

Bardock was among the most respected personalities of Vegitasei’s Court, but he still couldn’t compete with his son’s aura. There was something unique about Goku. While he was officially a Saiyan general receiving all the honors due to his rank, he'd never fit in the Saiyan army. He had never been in charge of soldiers and he had never been really commanded either. He was actually closer to a lonely mercenary than to an army leader. He was also used to stay apart of any of the Court’s plots and it was no secret that he hated the life at the Palace. Rumors were that his strange behavior was a result of his Earthling past, but no one would ever deny him the value of a grand Saiyan hero. Most of all, the King and his wife both cared greatly for him and that was something no one else could claim - Not even Bardock which Bulma deeply disliked.

Trunks blinked in astonishment at Goku's unexpected support. Full of hope, the young Prince focused back on his father. If Goku couldn't convince him, no one would make it, he knew.

The King was wearing a puzzled frown.

One of the Councilors had blushed in anger at Goku's low blow. “That's sheer madness, Your Majesty. The wedding has to take place as soon as possible and think about the scandal. People won’t miss that the Prince has left Vegitasei and you can be sure that they won’t be long to know where he went and for what reason,” he urged.

“Not to mention Lord Goten has been declared dead already. The Court will find it all very weird and there will be questions about the Prince and nasty assumptions about Lord Goten’s death,” the Chamberlain added in concern.

Bardock punched the armrest of his chair all of a sudden. “You can’t let that brainless kid mess up with Royal interests, Your Majesty. And what about you, Kakarott? Did the loss of your son fuck up your mind?”

Trunks cringed at the massive objection to his request. For a split second, he’d hoped that Goku siding with him would ensure his father’s agreement but he hadn't considered the Councilor’s fierce determination to have the Prince act according to their political plans.

Next to him, Goku was tense too. Bardock and he looked like they were about to jump on each other. Their _kis_ had raised threateningly and Trunks could feel the whoosh caused by their growing energies. Yet, Goku remained quiet, just glaring back at his own father, his fists balled in contained anger.

Vegeta seemed oblivious of the silent fight. He was staring at the rebellious Prince and Trunks couldn’t help but imagine all the awful thoughts going through his head. His father was going to sweep his request away, that was for sure.

Vegeta shifted in his throne. “All right. Kakarott, you’ll be accountable for the Prince’s safety. The whole trip has to be discreet, a small ship, a handful of soldiers.”

The whole audience froze at the King's talk and it felt like the atmosphere had gone from boiling hot to thrilling cold in the blink of an eye. Goku and Bardock calmed down on the spot and all eyes locked on Vegeta.

“Your Majesty?” one of the Councilors grunted in disbelief.

“What about His Highness' bride?” the Chamberlain pointed out.

Vegeta hissed in irritation at the interruption. “Let everybody know that we eventually found Lord Goten’s corpse on Prius and that the Prince is now hellbent on bringing the body back by himself in tribute to his longstanding brother in arms, especially after his bad condition prevented him from attending the funeral. Earthlings understand the meaning of mourning more than we do. They'll respect His Highness’s will to get the body of a loyal, high-ranked friend and thus they’ll accept the delay for the wedding. As for the Saiyans, they will appreciate the attention and they’ll also think that the Prince is completely healed. As suggested by Kakarott, Gohan will deliver the message in person.”

Bardock couldn't take it any longer. “So, that's it?” he roared, “His Highness will just get exactly what he wants? What are we all? Morons sitting in the background?”

Vegeta’s eyes dangerously narrowed in annoyance. “You're my Council and I'm free to listen to your advice or not. I'm the one deciding in the end.”

The Chamberlain’s face had frozen in stunned disbelief. “Your Majesty knows we have foes lurking in the shadows. The wedding-"

“This talk has come to an end now,” Vegeta coldly cut off.

He stood up and gazed at his guests three steps below. “My favor comes with conditions though. First of all, I want you two to swear that you won’t tell anyone about our agreement. Out of this room, we did find Goten’s body. He’s dead – period.”

Trunks felt Goku flinch at the words.

Vegeta must have sensed it too because he focused on him and repeated. “No one can know. No family, no friend. Not even the queen. And if you were to come back with empty hands, you’ll bring back a corpse to take Lord Goten’s place in his grave and we won’t ever mention this topic again.”

The speech was hard to take. Trunks became aware that his idea was double-edged. If he didn’t find Goten – and he was realizing how low his chances were to get hold of him after all the best Saiyan hunters had failed at the task - he would have to give up to any hope once and for all. He hadn’t much of a choice though.

He slowly rose his forearm and Goku hesitantly followed him. “I swear,” they both murmured reluctantly.

Vegeta nodded in approval. “Second thing, I give you three months, no more and no matter what happens, your ship will be ready in two days and whatever happens, you’ll be back in 90 days so that His Highness can marry the Earthling girl.”

“I swear,” they repeated.

The King couldn’t get his eyes off of them though, as if he didn’t completely trust them. “You can leave,” he eventually claimed after a while.

Trunks and Goku saluted him and they exited the hall, ignoring the angry looks send at them.

They both paused as the big door of the Royal Hall closed behind their backs. They stood silent, a bit dazed in the deserted corridor, and slowly turned to each other.

Trunks was still bewildered by Goku’s intervention. The tall Saiyan flashed his typical beam at him and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “See you in two days, kid,” he greeted before walking away.

Trunks was speechless. He watched his friend’s father step away. “Kid?” he murmured for himself. No one had addressed him that way in years.

He had a small chuckle while slowly realizing that he had made it. He had fucking made it.

He hadn’t slept the night before, thinking through all the strategies he would need to use to convince the dreadful Council. Like Bardock had pointed it out, he'd come to get a punishment in the first place, so asking for favor instead had been a lost cause from the very beginning.

Goku’s support had helped, that was for sure, but even so, Trunks was quite dumbfounded that his father had disregarded the Councilors' opposition. That fact warmed the Prince more than he could say.

For the first time in months, his mood was incredibly light and cheerful. He had to go and see Gohan.

He rushed through the Palace to his friend’s quarters. He'd never noticed how big the Royal House was and by the time he reached the aisle where Gohan lived, his legs and back were sore. He was also breathless.

He came to a stop in front of the impressive double door marking the entrance of Gohan's place. He fished out two pills from his pockets and swallowed them with a swift move of the head. Painkillers were the only way to keep the creeping numbness of his body at bay and the exhausting hearing with the Council along with the walk throughout the Palace had been enough to awake the dull aching of his muscles.

He didn’t bother knocking. Pushing the doors open, he stepped into Gohan's apartment. He found himself in a wide room where his entrance caused an instant panic among an army of maids. They were busy packing in huge chests but as soon as they saw him, they stopped their tasks and froze in overdone curtseys.

Trunks had also paused at the unexpected sight. His surprise soon turned into a faint amusement though. He'd never come to visit Gohan before and he didn't know his friend was ruling such a squad of devoted maids while most of the officers were content with a pair of them. The thought was funny. The Prince cleared his throat to chase his urge to laugh. “I'd like to see Lord Gohan,” he claimed as seriously as possible.

One of the females looked up at him with blushed cheeks. “I – Huh – He,” she stammered in confusion. She was rubbing her hands in obvious nervousness as she had likely never been addressed by any Royal person.

“It's okay, girls, I'll take care of that. Leave us,” Gohan's calm voice echoed.

Trunks hadn't noticed his silent entrance through another door at the other end of the room. _Girls? Seriously?_

The maids obliged and headed to the exits but Gohan held one of them back. “Did she eat?” he asked. He was speaking in a low voice but Trunks could still hear his words.

The female shyly shook her head and Gohan frowned in concern. “Tell the cook to fix a dish from the Earthling recipe book. Maybe…” He interrupted himself as he became aware that Trunks was listening to him. “Do as I say,” he eventually concluded upon releasing the maid.

When she was gone too, everything went back to quietness. Trunks was still staring at Gohan, trying to process what he’d just heard.

Gohan was standing still across the room in a ceremonial uniform with a dark green doublet. Even in the distance, Trunks couldn't miss his regal look and yet he didn’t miss the sadness either. The older male had certainly been talking of his mother with the servant and all of a sudden, all the joy Trunks had been filled with vanished. His amusement about the maids was gone.

“How are you doing? Your father said you hadn't fully recovered, yet,” Gohan asked before Trunks couldn’t find the slightest word of support.

Trunks felt somehow stupid and selfish. He had sought Gohan for comfort but he hadn’t considered a single instant that Gohan had to cope with his own shits. "I'm about to be completely healed. The doctors just said I'll need some more time, but it won't be long," the Prince lied confidently.

Gohan nodded and managed to give him a weak smile. "Good. I was worried when you didn't show up at the funeral."

Trunks flinched at the mention of the ceremony. In normal times, he would proudly claim that he didn’t attend the funeral because Goten was still alive but what was the point now? Wouldn’t it be utterly cruel to try to convince Gohan again while the Council was about to crush any hope by breaking the news that they had found Goten’s corpse on Prius? Gohan knew Trunks’ theory anyway. He knew exactly why the Prince had decided to miss the ceremony.

Gohan sighed at his friend’s silence. “So, is that all you have in store for me? A sheepish, embarrassed face?” he murmured.

“You don’t get it, Gohan – “

“Trunks, you shouldn’t forget that you’re the Prince in that damn place. You’re hurt. We all are. You’re not just like any normal person though and you can’t just act on feelings. Can you imagine if we were all doing that?”

Even though Gohan’s tone was kind, the sermon immediately annoyed Trunks. “The Council already served me that song,” he groaned.

“And they don’t wish you ill. Saiyans are your people, they’re not your enemies. What we experienced on Kenam shouldn’t lead you to distrust them. They searched Goten. They really did. They gave everything they had to find him, believe me. Now, what does it bring to stand up against the Council? You weaken your father’s authority and what difference does it make for Goten anyway?” Gohan insisted.

He was determined to make his point, but he sounded more pained than angry. He was wrong all the same though. Trunks craved to tell him that his stunt had allowed him to go to Prius in order to take a last look at Goten’s track but he couldn’t. His father had been adamant that they wouldn’t say a word about his plan. Still, hearing Gohan taking side for the Council was utterly frustrating. “They wish me no ill but they want me to marry an Earthling girl I don’t even know,” he hissed in irritation.

Gohan’s features softened. He rubbed the back of his head in that typical gesture all the men of his family had. “Hm. I know. That sucks. Come on, let’s have a drink.”

Trunks sat down as Gohan got some bottles out of a cabinet. “You know, Bulma would never have agreed to this wedding if it weren’t for very good reasons. And who knows? The girl might be a nice one. Maybe you’ll like her,” Gohan resumed as he came back to his guest.

Trunks scowled. “Gohan, I don’t like girls.”

Gohan raised his eyebrows. “You don’t? Not even a little bit?”

Trunks shrugged. “I never even felt like trying.”

Gohan chuckled while filling two glasses. “Thinking about it, Vegitasei never gave you many opportunities to get to know females. They were too afraid to get a little bastard in return. Maybe you should take it upon yourself to give women a chance. They're great.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this talk,” Trunks mumbled grumpily.

“And yet, we are. Don’t worry, I’ll be by your side at the engagement ceremony. I’ll be there to help you whenever –“

“Help me do what? I’ll never like this woman and what do you know about being engaged anyway? You? Of all people? Never falling for anyone, screwing Seconds or random soldiers once in a while, what do you know about binding your life to someone else’s?”

Trunks forced himself to shut up. He hadn’t wanted to sound that rough but anger had been stronger. Gohan’s speech had hurt him. Gohan was telling him to accept his lot just when he was fighting hard to escape it. Maybe Trunks was wrong. Maybe he was fooling himself by believing he could change the course of his fate. After all, how arrogant was it to think that he could find Goten in 90 days while Bardock, Goku, and Gohan - his own family, twice as powerful as he was - had failed to do so in months? Not to mention he had sworn to come back to marry the girl no matter the result of his trip.

Trunks’ mind had carefully avoided mulling over these questions and Gohan had unwillingly spelled them out.

Gohan kept quiet for a while, staring at his friend with a blank face. “Are you resentful about what we did on Kenam? Did you, huh, imagine that we – would stay in some sort of relationship?” he eventually asked.

Trunks frowned in confusion and mused over the question. “No, but – I – I miss you,” he confessed. “It’s like I will never be up to Vegitasei’s circus and I keep that feeling that you’re the only one left able to understand that.”

Gohan nodded thoughtfully. “Life does that sometimes. It makes you question what you are and what you belong to. It’s something natural. We all go through some soul-searching once in a while, believe me. Even your father does. Don’t worry, I can tell you totally fit for your role.”

Trunks nearly blushed at the praise. He was impressed by Gohan's strength. He never broke down. Even while mourning his little brother and nursing his grieving mother, even after Trunks had lashed at him in an awful manner, he was still able to see through things and to find the right words to comfort the people he cared for.

Trunks definitely wished he could keep him by his side, tell him about his plan to go to Prius and give him hope again. Yet, he knew it wasn’t possible. His father hadn’t allowed it and if Trunks were to challenge him, Vegeta would go back on his decision.

Trunks had to suck it up. For Goten’s sake. For his own sake too.


	3. Chapter 3

When Trunks had turned ten, he had been deemed fit to start his Saiyan education and he had been sent to Vegitasei along with Goten. They were born on Earth where they had spent a carefree childhood so far, and as they were on the verge of beginning their shaping into grown-up men, they needed to be seriously taught about their duties to the Saiyan people. Their mothers had probably bargained over this schedule to the bitter end, but Vegitasei would never have let them raise such high-born boys on their own.

Thus, Trunks and Goten had left their mothers and their sweet Earthling life behind to join their fathers' homeland. They knew little of Saiyan culture back then. They spoke a few words of common Saiyajinn and they pictured Saiyan people as strong guys with big mouths and bad manners enjoying fight and food. It sounded quite cool in their naïve, childish minds, and they couldn’t wait to live in Vegitasei which they obviously imagined being a marvelous castle where all the fun was going on.

Reality had hit them hard.

The Chamberlain had been in charge of the Prince’s education since his birth. He had regularly visited Trunks on Earth in his younger years and when the Prince and Bardock’s grandson settled down in the Saiyan Palace, he became the boys’ tutor. At this time, the Saiyan wasn’t as soft as he was now, and certainly not as patient either.

His first big challenge had been to have Goten address Trunks as “Your Highness” when in public.

No matter the words or the tone the older Saiyan had used to explain to the little boy how much it mattered that Trunks was named properly in front of his subjects, Goten kept considering that it was granting Trunks an undeserved honor and he flatly refused to cave in.

At first, Trunks had taken his resistance as a game. He smirked smugly at his friend when Goten was berated for denying his Prince any appropriate respect and in reply, Goten gave him the finger behind the Chamberlain’s back whenever he had the opportunity.

The game had quickly turned sour though.

Since words had no effect on the kid, the Chamberlain’s deputy took the matter up to the next level. Blows.

Goten was punched every time he failed to name his friend by his rank.

The first time was such a shock for the boys that they didn’t even react. Goten acted cocky and Trunks gritted his teeth. The second time, both children protested loudly and as a punishment, they were refused any food for the whole day.

The third time, however, Goten’s nose turned into a bloody pulp and the two kids lost their nerves. They retaliated.

It took a dozen of soldiers to handle them and before Trunks knew it, Goten was gone. Some guards took him away and Trunks lost track of his ki. He had later understood that the Saiyan had used a ki-suppressor to overcome the unruly kid, but at the time, Trunks had been in total panic.

He had ordered his friend back. He had yelled. He had even threatened everybody with impending death by turning super and crashing walls, and yet, the Chamberlain hadn’t given in. The reply had always been the same. “It’s of no use to look for him, Your Highness. As long as he’s unable to acknowledge his rank and yours, he’s not fit to stand by your side.”

Back then, Trunks had realized for the first time that he had been completely wrong about what it meant to be a Prince. As an Earthling child, he had stupidly believed that he would be commanding everyone and it happened to be quite the contrary.

He had also realized for the first time that being a Prince implied to feel awfully alone. His mother was on Earth with Bulla while his father, Goku, and Gohan were away on some mission.

He was on his own and as a last resort, he had started wandering throughout the whole Palace in search of his friend. After hours of walk, checking every empty room, questioning every single guard, night fell on the cold corridors. Despite his hunger and exhaustion, Trunks had kept going on until he eventually pushed the door of a small cell.

Goten was there, sitting on the ground with his knees folded against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. A chain was running from his ankle to the wall and the detail made Trunks’ throat tighten.

As the little Prince stepped inside, his friend looked up at him wordlessly, allowing the light of the corridor to kiss his face. His nose and cheek were swollen and bruised but his gaze still conveyed all his anger and sadness.

Trunks walked up to the little prisoner and sat down next to him in the very same position. He was unable to watch him in the eyes. For some reason, he felt guilty for the way he’d been treated.

“If you call me Your Highness in public, I’ll call you the same in private. Would it be all right with you?” Trunks murmured after a thoughtful while.

Goten blurted a brief sigh and slowly leaned aside to rest his head against his friend’s shoulder. In return, Trunks sneaked his arms around his companion’s frame as a form of support and they had eventually fallen asleep side by side despite the freezing cold of the cell.

Trunks couldn’t help but smile at the memories. It had been years since the last time he'd called Goten Your Highness, but as he was studying the Saiyan Planet getting smaller and smaller in the distance, he would have given everything to do so again.

The captain had announced that the trip to Prius would last about three weeks. It was an eternity considering the little time his father had granted him to search for Goten. He didn’t even have a clue about where to start although he had been musing about it for two days.

He looked down at his sword hanging at his side. The first thing that had crossed his mind so far was that he needed to regain some strength. He was aware that he didn’t stand a chance to go back to his former glorious condition, but he should at least be able to defend himself properly and since he had no ki at disposal, he had decided to practice sword.

“Wanna spar with me?” a voice offered.

Looking up, Trunks realized that Goku had joined him in the deserted training room. He was shocked to find out that the tall Saiyan was wearing his old orange gi. Trunks hadn't seen him dressed like this in years.

Goku had been used to turn up on Earth once in a while when Goten and Trunks were kids. Trunks had always wondered why the Saiyan kept going back to Earth. It was no secret that he had long stopped caring for Chichi. Even though her love for him had never completely died out, they had parted long before Goten’s birth and their second kid had mostly been the unexpected result of a one-night mistake.

Trunks had also figured out at a very young age that Goten wasn’t the reason why Goku kept coming back. Sure enough, he would visit his kid and spend some time with him when on Earth but he was mostly used to disappear for days, traveling up around the Planet, staying at Kame House, or seeing some of his old friends. Although he loved his son in his own way, Goten hadn’t been what bound him to Earth and Trunks had come to the conclusion that the Saiyan warrior just needed to go back there as a way to recharge his batteries.

Either way, whenever Goku came to Earth, he never missed the opportunity of a little spar with Goten and Trunks, and each time, he would wear that awful orange gi.

Now, having him dressed up in that outfit and proposing him to spar gave Trunks a painful feeling of déjà-vu.

“Huh, I didn’t exactly intend to spar. In my state, I won’t be an interesting partner for you anyway,” the young male stammered in unease.

Goku’s might was a true legend. Even in full force and teaming up with Goten, Trunks had never been up to him back on Earth and the Saiyan’s offer only reminded him of how weak and pathetic he had turned.

Goku smiled at him and stepped closer. “But I might be an interesting partner for you.”

Trunks frowned at the persistence. Did Goku really want him to understand what a cripple he had become? What was that? A kind of sick curiosity? “You know that I’ve been poisoned, don’t you? I’m too weak to fight,” Trunks grumbled bitterly.

Goku tilted his head. He was still grinning but his eyes had grown hard. “Are you? Then, how do you intend to find my son?”

Trunks pinched his lips. Goku was asking a question that had obsessed him for days.

“Come on, you can use your thing there. Give it a try,” Goku insisted, pointing at the sword.

Trunks sighed in defeat. He took his painkillers out of his pocket but as he was to stuff them into his mouth, Goku grabbed his wrist to stop his gesture.

“Drugs don’t only numb the pain. They numb your connection to your body, and they cut your ki off,” he objected.

“I have no ki to use and if I don’t take the painkillers, I will ache and I will be no good,” Trunks retorted in irritation.

Goku just shook his head. “Pain is a necessary evil. It’s the first step to get your ki.”

“I told you I have no ki!” Trunks snapped, trying to make the warrior let go of his arm.

Before the young man knew it, the Saiyan slammed his free palm against his chest. The blow wasn’t hard. It was just enough to trigger dull suffering throughout his body, causing him to gasp.

“Of course, you have ki. It’s hidden deep down. Beyond the pain. Go and get it,” Goku groaned.

Trunks gazed at him in disbelief. The tall Saiyan looked confident and hell-bent on making his point. After a last hesitation, the young Prince opened his hand and dropped the pills on the ground.

He was rewarded by Goku’s satisfied beam. “I won’t lie. It’s gonna hurt a bit,” the warrior claimed as he took a step back to allow his opponent to draw his sword.

Trunks attempted a first hit and of course, Goku effortlessly dodged the blade with a swift backlash. Trunks chained other attacks without any success.

“My, you’re slow,” Goku commented with a fake yawn.

Trunks was piqued by the remark. Did Goku really need to underline the bitter obviousness? The young Prince quickened his movements, but it only resulted in a throbbing pain creeping up his arms and shoulders.

“Is this supposed to be a weapon of some sort?” Goku asked mockingly.

Trunks was seized by rage at the sarcasm. He blurted a furious yell and gathered all his strength in a swirl of the sword aimed at his opponent’s shoulder. He missed and the point of the sword heavily hit the floor, almost planting itself in it.

Trunks froze. He was breathless, trembling, and sweaty, his muscles numb with pain.

Goku waited for a silent moment. “So? Is that a trick to have me die out of boredom?”

Trunks gave him a deadly glare. “Don’t you see I can’t do this anymore?”

Goku pouted in disbelief. “This is not a way to end a fight though. Let’s do it otherwise. I count to three. One, two, three.”

Before Trunks knew it, a single kick shoved the sword away and reached him right in the chest. He was flung backward but by some sort of miracle he didn’t lose his footing.

He hardly had time to regain his wits as he heard Goku’s voice counting again and by three, Trunks instinctively raised his forearms at the last minute to absorb the Saiyan’s punch directed at his face.

The shock triggered an agony spreading from his arms to his shoulders and down his spine. “Goku, fuck!” he groaned in pain.

As a reply, Goku was already back to counting, and Trunks’ ribs were met by a rough kick.

He doubled over and repressed a hiss. He realized that Goku wouldn’t listen to him. Trunks was no authority to him and the warrior didn’t consider his demands as orders. Goku wanted to spar, and they would spar no matter Trunks’ objection.

The best thing to do was to keep up with his pace until someone showed up and stopped the madness.

Trunks took a deep breath and tried to dodge the next punch. He nearly made it but Goku’s fist banged his shoulder causing him the excruciating feeling that his bones had literally blown up.

Trunks yelped and backed away, his wounded arm pressed to his side.

The pain made him somehow aware of the stake of the fight. His brain urged him to take a closer look at the danger and to find a solution to avoid any more damage. He noted that Goku didn’t fly and his movements weren’t as quick as usual. He also stuck to his counting method and he only attacked by three. Trunks had to pick up the rhythm. Maybe getting the sword back could help too.

He was unexpectedly able to avoid the next punch and he sprinted toward his weapon. As he was leaning down to grasp it, a brutal kick in the head sent him face down to the ground. His lip crashed down into the floor and the taste of blood immediately filled his mouth.

Behind him, Goku’s voice was counting again and another kick soon crushed his back. As Trunks was arching in pain, the thought that Goku intended to kill him crossed his mind in a flash. The idea felt amazingly obvious all of a sudden. A life for a life. The Earthling Saiyan had lost it and since Vegitasei had taken his son, he would take their Prince. And no one would stop him from doing so.

As a matter of fact, Trunks’ challenge wasn’t about gaining time, it was about saving his life and panic overwhelmed him at the realization.

He rolled aside just in time to dodge the next kick. His eyes met the handle of the sword. It was close at hand and he reached out to grab it without a second thought. He coiled up in anticipation of the next hit but it hurt all the same.

It felt like his whole body was dislocated and it took him an insane effort to sit up on one knee. He blindly whirled the blade in front of him to prevent any other impending attack.

Goku was forced to reroute his blow but in the blink of an eye, he was standing behind the young man and his punch met the Prince’s back of the head.

Trunks was brutally thrust forward, and he stretched out his free arm to avoid falling flat. He earned an awful shot of pain through his crushed shoulder as the weight of his body was too much to support and he screamed at the terrible sensation. Taking advantage of the next count, he struggled to his feet nevertheless and whirled around unsteadily to face his opponent.

Goku’s features were stern. He was done smiling happily. There was nothing warming shining through his cold expression. He was determined and he would never stop.

Trunks could see him getting ready for his next attack.

“Goku, please,” he murmured in weariness. He was dizzy and the only thing he could perceive was the agony of his body. His shoulder, his head, his back. Everything was sheer pain.

He tried to raise the sword as Goku charged him with a dreadful punch, but somehow the warrior’s knuckles crashed against his cheekbone either way.

His skull blew up. Plain and simple.

Fighting Goku? Seriously? What did he expect?

The next thing coming to his mind was Teeb’s voice, distant and tinged with disapproval. Trunks didn’t get a word of what he said, but he felt totally unconcerned anyway. The echo ended up fading away and everything went back to quietness.

Then, came the unmistakable cold thickness of the regeneration fluid on his skin. The respirator was stuck in his mouth and his jaw was sore enough to let him know he’d been there for a good while already. He frowned and searched blindly for the draining command.

When he pressed the button, the tank started to slowly empty itself. Trunks snatched the respirator off as soon as the level allowed him to. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the awful fluid and wiped aside the soaked locks sticking to his forehead. Then, locating the unlocking command of the tank, he pressed it.

The cocoon of glass opened up. The young man hopped over the edge of the machine, coughing and spitting some leftovers of the fluid. He hated that crap and he had had enough of it when he had been back from Kenam.

Grabbing a towel to dry himself he took in his surroundings. The first and only person his eyes met was Goku. He was back to a Saiyan outfit, watching him in bleak concern, motionless, his arms folded in a patient stance.

Trunks’ anger flared at once. “The fuck, Goku! What the hell went through your mind? Were you trying to kill me?” he snapped.

Goku hardly scowled at his tone. “You didn’t give much of a fight,” he stated.

Trunks was rubbing the fluid off of his skin and he froze at the nerves of the reply. “I didn’t give much of a fight. Are you kidding me?”

“You were slow, clumsy, shy. Fearful.” Goku resumed, unaffected by the exasperation in the Prince’s voice.

Trunks was deeply piqued by the reproach. “The poison running in my blood makes me weak. I told you so and you knew it anyway! What did you expect? Do you know what I’m going through? You don’t have any idea of what I’m going through!” he yelled in utter frustration.

For the first time, Goku’s face shifted. His concern grew into a dreadful expression as contained anger broke through his eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, Your Holy Highness of all fucking Saiyans,” he growled in a low voice. “I neared death more times than I can count, and I haven’t always had a comfortable regeneration tank to help me, nor a bitchy Second in Command to get me into it when I was unconscious, so believe me, I know pain more than you will ever do and yes, I have a pretty good idea of what you’re going through and that’s what makes me crazy.”

His words were laced with contempt and Trunks felt hurt. He wasn’t used to having someone talking to him like this especially Goku. The Saiyan was clearly resentful to him. “You’re mad at me for Goten's disappearance,” Trunks eventually murmured bitterly.

Goku pursed his lips. “I’m mad at you for giving me hope. Seeing you begging for another chance to find Goten gave me hope and now, you disappoint me and send me back to these unbearable doubts about my son’s life or death,” he hissed in an accusing tone.

Trunks’ glared angrily at him. “I don’t get it. You said to the Council that I wouldn’t find anything on Prius, you said that failing in my search was the best way to turn me into, I quote, ‘a more compliant mindset’, so why do you bother about what I do or don’t do?”

Goku huffed. “Don’t play smartass with me. I was only trying to convince them because, just like you, I was craving to go back look for Goten. You can’t imagine how hard it has been for me to give up the search and just when I was about to accept that he might indeed have died, you came up with your request to go back to Prius, reigniting all my craziest hopes in the process. But now…”

He interrupted himself, much to Trunks’ irritation. “Now what?” the younger male spat.

Goku’s eyes bore into his as he finished his sentence. “Now I realize that you’re a fake hope again.”

The blow was hard and a deep cut in Trunks' pride. “Fake hope?” he exclaimed.

Goku pointed his finger at him. “Exactly. How do you intend to find him? Do you plan to send your men around? Or visit the town in all your princely glory so that a track miraculously comes up? Tell me? How do you see things? Because we all did that before and you know what we got for that? Nothing. Zero.”

Goku was speaking fast. It was obvious that all his bitterness and frustration had been bottled up for months and it was now getting loose in a harsh flow aimed at Trunks.

“I – I haven’t figured – “ Trunks faltered.

Goku wrinkled his nose at the confession. “You don’t? Then, let me tell you something. You won’t find Goten with your shiny Saiyan armor, your painkillers, your regeneration tank, or your fucking Second tending to all your need. No. You’ll find him with your guts. See, mines weren’t enough. Did you know I searched Prius’ sewer on my own? Fifty kilometers of filth, creepy creatures, sickening smells and toxic trashes and I sent no men for that because I had to check it for myself. I spent two weeks with the constant fear of discovering my son’s body floating among the foulest craps.”

Goku stopped talking as if his speech had exhausted him. All his pain and rage had broken loose and it felt as if he was drained all of a sudden. He lowered his finger and the harshness on his face gave way to a deep sadness while Trunks stood speechless in front of him.

“The Prince of Vegitasei won’t find Goten. Only Trunks Briefs can do it, but he wasn’t with me in the sparring room and as a matter of fact, I wonder if he still exists somewhere,” Goku concluded in a low defeated tone.

He clearly didn’t expect any reply. Trunks was too dumbfounded to say anything anyway and he just watched the other male exiting silently the room.

All the Prince’s anger was gone as Goku’s dismay has come out. Trunks hadn’t suspected a single instant that his stubbornness had affected him that way, that the Saiyan warrior had come to rely on him, a crippled hybrid Prince, to eventually find his son. Actually, Trunks had always thought he was the only one to deny Goten’s death. As always, he had been a self-centered prick.

Yet, despite the sourness of their talk, he had also figured out that, against all odds, Goku somehow believed in him. He was totally dazed by the realization, but most of all it brought him an unexpected comfort.

As he absently took his T-shirt to keep dressing up, his eyes met the bottle of painkillers. He would surely need them to sleep properly tonight. He sighed and put the rest of his clothes on before stepping out of the medical bay.


	4. Chapter 4

Planet Prius was entirely made of Prisma, a black hard rock that was its sole wealth and its curse as it was both a rare material very sought-after in ship engineering and a toxic substance.

The tainted environment hadn’t allowed any intelligent life to blossom down there and the conquest had been hardly interesting for the Saiyans at first. That was until they discovered the amazing properties of Prisma.

At this point, Vegitasei had deemed it wiser to leave it to other races to run the Planet on behalf of the Saiyan Crown. Prisma’s poison was no good to a Saiyan’s organism in the long run. As a matter of fact, it was no good to any living organism, but Vegitasei wasn’t very fussy about that detail.

Few people lived in that unwelcoming place anyway. Most of the land was deserted and barren. The only populated areas were the mines where slaves and prisoners with a timed life expectancy dug out the precious Prisma and a sole town homing the free citizens.

The Saiyan general staff hadn’t even considered it necessary to name the city and it was just called after the Planet itself, Prius.

However, there was more to it than a den for lost souls seeking some solace for a life of labor and damnation. Prius was a well-known spot for all sorts of pirates’ business.

Pirates were packs of outcasts of all races. They were plaguing the outer-space, the part of the universe still unconquered by Saiyans, where they were free to pillage planets or other ships without fearing any true retaliation.

Pirates were careful not to stand in the way of the Saiyans and they avoided venturing into their territory but they didn’t mind doing some trading with Vegitasei’s colonies nonetheless. They sold the exotic fruit of their ransacking and enjoyed some goods from the Saiyan Kingdom in return. For the pirates' sake, this kind of business could only take place on planets like Prius, poorly guarded and nearing the outer-space.

Thus, Prius City happened to be like an anthill, peaceful and nearly dead on the surface with a restless life milling underground, and even though its governor Mobor stood like a trustworthy, respectable man, it was no secret in Vegitasei that the Planet was ruled by bribery and illegality. However, the Saiyan Crown wasn’t willing to take a closer look at Prius’ life as long as Mobor was able to maintain a semblance of order and the mines kept producing at a fair rate.

On that matter, Goten’s disappearance had been an earthquake rocking the Planet upside down.

A piece of his ship had been found and identified for certain on the black market of another Planet and Gohan had been able to trace back the leads of its successive sellers to Prius’ Pirate market, lightyears from the area where the signal of Goten's ship had been lost.

Up from that moment, relentless Saiyans had swarmed the Planet and they had spent months messing up with its unofficial routine. They had arrested and tortured renowned pirates in the hope of finding out which one had discovered Goten’s ship, when, and how.

This method had always proved its worth before, but in that case, it happened to be fruitless, either that the Saiyan army had questioned the wrong people, or that Pirates were especially tenacious in comparison with standard people.

Gohan had been right when he’d said that Saiyans had given everything they had. They had nearly ransacked the town seeking clues and information. All they got were some more pieces of Goten’s ship and still, they couldn’t figure where they came from. If anything, their discoveries were mostly the proof that Goten’s craft had crashed down, which left little to no hope to find him alive.

Trunks knew the details of every search like the back of his hand and yet, he couldn’t prevent himself from reading the reports all over again.

He turned off his tab with an unwilling sigh and pushed it away over the desk. Like each time, studying Goten’s brief left him with a strange mix of both a feeling of dull dejection and an aftertaste of unfinished business.

He watched absently the blackness of space through the window. They were still a week away from Prius and he wasn’t quite sure what he would do once there. What could he do that the Saiyan soldiers, Goku, Bardock, and Gohan reunited hadn’t already done?

Not to mention, he wasn’t exactly in his best condition although he finally carried on training with Goku every day.

The only reason why he’d accepted to keep going on with the Saiyan despite the brutal outcome of their first session was that Goku was the first and only person sharing his undying hope about Goten.

Save for that point, Trunks had a hard time dealing with the warrior’s relentlessness though.

Goku hadn’t gone soft on his Prince and their sparring sessions had been no bed of roses for the young male, especially without painkillers.

Trunks had hung on all the same. If serving as a punchbag for Goku had the slightest chance to help him find Goten then he had to do it.

Despite the pain.

Because the pain was still lurking. It never let go of him, every day being a little agony. From the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep, his muscles were sore and stiff like concrete. Any movement he made, no matter how faint it was, was rewarded by a throbbing aching and he also had tremor crisis when he pushed himself too hard.

Trunks had learned a lot about pain in the past two weeks. He knew now how to cope with it and he was even able to overlook it when it was time to fight.

It had indeed been Goku’s point all along. He had wanted Trunks to grow tougher, to become able to ignore the pain and to regain some strength, and as annoying as it sounded, the Saiyan warrior had been right. The pain was still there but Trunks endured it bravely and he got to fight back. His ki was even shyly coming out and he had been successful in sending small blasts once in a while.

It was still far from his normal abilities, but all things considered, even if he wasn’t as powerful as a Saiyan Prince should be, he was an average level for most races, nonetheless.

The door of his room sliding open interrupted his musing and he turned to the entrance. Goku stepped in unceremoniously. Nothing was ever done ceremoniously by that man, Trunks assumed.

The Prince was still surprised to find the newcomer in his Saiyan outfit. It was time for their daily training and according to a silent agreement, they were used to train with their Earthling clothes.

Teeb had berated Trunks nearly every day for wearing such indecent outfits in full view of everyone while traveling on a Royal ship but he had found no way to convince the Prince otherwise.

Yet, today Goku was dressed up like the Saiyan officer he was. Black top, white armor with the Royal symbol on it, and boots. Trunks arched an eyebrow. “Weren’t we supposed to train?” he asked.

Goku kept quiet at the question. He stared thoughtfully at the Prince still sitting at his desk.

Trunks felt that something was off, and he stood up warily. “Is something wrong?” he asked in concern.

Goku rubbed the back of his head in that very personal way of his. “Everything’s fine,” he muttered in a low voice, walking to the bed and sitting down in unease.

Trunks watched him warily, waiting for more explanation.

Goku was obviously uncomfortable, rubbing his hands in nervousness. “I see that you went through the reports again. Did you eventually find something interesting?” he asked.

Trunks was embarrassed to shake his head. “Still thinking it through.”

He had expected to read some disappointment on Goku’s face but the Saiyan’s expression remained blank, nearly unconcerned. His eyes shifted to the window and dived wistfully in the endless night of space. “I know we never really mention it before but you’re aware that if you were to find something, it might be proof of his death, aren’t you?” he mumbled in a faint murmur.

Trunks flinched. He had heard that statement many times before coming from many different people but for the first time, his brain accepted to process the words and they sounded awfully real. Still, he couldn’t admit it aloud. “Maybe.”

Goku’s eyes came back to him and the shadow of a smile stretched his lips. “Either way, I’m happy that my son had someone like you by his side. It warms me somewhat up to think that his short life allowed him at least to meet someone caring for him as you do.”

“Don’t talk of him like that,” Trunks snapped dryly, ready to get into a new argument.

Goku didn’t look upset though. He just sighed. “Okay. Nevermind. What I meant is that I’m proud of you, of all the efforts you made during the past weeks.”

Trunks was caught off guard by the praise. His relationship with Goku hadn’t been exactly smooth. It had even been pretty tense at the beginning.

The warrior often sounded resentful, as if he was blaming Trunks for what happened to his son, and he didn’t shrink from treating his Prince like a pampered brat, looking down on him, hinting he was weak and whiny. His attitude felt hurtful and unfair to the younger male and the Prince’s pride didn’t bear with it very long. As a result, they often had serious clashes.

The most exasperating thing was that, no matter how furious he was at Goku, Trunks always ended up showing up at the next sparring session. Over time, the young man had become aware that lashing at him was Goku’s way to express his grief and that their constant arguments were somehow what kept them together for everything was always about Goten and Goten was their link.

Fortunately, their anger had faded lately. They had started to interact outside the training room and little by little, Trunks had figured out that Goku was more than the unforgiving sparring partner he was used to.

Goku was a loner and he hardly mingled with other Saiyans as if he didn’t quite belong to their world, but somehow, he was able to open up in Trunks’ company. He even came to talk about Goten once, and Trunks realized that the seemingly emotionless fighter madly loved his son. The crazy thing was that although he'd hardly ever been around his kid, Goku knew a lot about him. He knew his personality, his liking, his disliking. Most of all, he knew about how much Goten had cared for Trunks. 

Goku hadn't asked questions. He hadn't asked Trunks about the exact nature of his relationship with his son but it was clear enough that nothing regarding Goten's life eluded the warrior's mind. Listening to him talking about Goten, Trunks had a hard time repressing the sobs in his throat. 

As a matter of fact, Trunks hadn’t really known the man behind the fighter before. The little he knew was from what Goten had told him. However, Goten was in total awe with his father and Trunks had always had the feeling that his friend tended to make Goku more flawless than he truly was, as a way to make up for his absence and the wrong he did to Chichi.

Now, hanging around the warrior out of the battlefield, Trunks had to admit that Goku was indeed someone special. There was something tantalizing about him that would push people into giving their best and hearing him say that he was proud of him made Trunks blush. “Thank you,” the young man murmured awkwardly.

Goku smiled at him. “Take your jacket and your sword, it’s time now.”

Trunks frowned in confusion. “Time?”

Goku nodded and gestured at him to do as he was told. Trunks obliged meekly, uncertain of what was going on. When he was done slipping into his jacket and buckling his sword in his back, he was startled by Goku’s grip on his shoulder, and in the blink of an eye, the settings blurred.

Before he knew it, Trunks was standing in a lavish lounge where two people were sitting in cozy armchairs and chatting peacefully. One of them looked human while the other was from another race with blue skin, no nose, and more than two arms.

Both guys jumped at the unexpected apparition and the human-like man blurted a weird shriek, looking up at them with wide eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Kakarott!” the man groaned.

Goku gave him a bright beam in return. “Hey, Mobor. I hope we don’t bother.”

Obviously, they did bother. However, Mobor was smart enough to know that such a question coming from a high-ranked Saiyan officer was meant rhetorically and he forced a nervous smile on his face. “I, huh, not really. We were done anyway, right?” he stammered with a glimpse at his companion.

The alien glanced silently aside at Goku. He didn’t miss the Saiyan’s uniform and he nodded. “We can see the details later,” the blue creature claimed upon standing up and saluting respectfully the newcomers.

He left the room and took care to close the door behind him.

Mobor hadn’t moved. He was still sitting in his chair, repressing his irritation as he kept gazing at Goku. His eyes were a fascinating green highlighting the darkness of his skin while his muscles were bulging underneath the precious fabric of his clothes. No doubt this guy was a giant intimidating anyone facing him, but with Goku, things were obviously different.

“I thought the story was over,” Mobor eventually mumbled.

Goku’s smile broke into a stern face and the governor shift in unease at the sight. “I mean – I heard that the funerals took place on Vegitasei, and I’m very sorry for your loss, so I didn’t expect to see you back on Prius,” he hastily corrected, putting some overdone respect in his tone.

“First of all, let me introduce you to His Highness, Prince of Vegitasei,” Goku cut off with a gesture at Trunks.

Mobor raised his eyebrows in disbelief as he took a closer look at Trunks. He was hesitant to believe that such a young man wearing an Earthling outfit and wandering around with a sword strapped to his back was indeed the Prince of Vegitasei.

Trunks stared at him coldly. “Is this – man - the governor of Prius? He sounds very familiar when addressing you,” he asked Goku with some disapproval in his voice.

“He's not the most distinguished type, I give that to you, Your Highness, but this is indeed Prius’ governor,” Goku confirmed.

Trunks was taken aback to hear the tall Saiyan calling him by his rank but he stood still as he understood the game at once. They had to ensure Mobor’s complete dedication and nothing was more convincing than a Saiyan Prince served by a legendary Saiyan warrior. Trunks wished that Goku had let him wear his official uniform before he instant transmitted them on Prius. Then, the show would have been even more spectacular.

However, it seemed that Goku’s respectful tone was enough to have immediate effect and Mobor jumped to his feet to salute the Prince. “All my apologies, Your Highness. I wasn’t warned about your visit but it’s a great honor and an even greater pleasure to meet you. How can I please you?” he greeted in a servile tone.

Trunks huffed. “First remember who you are. Keep in mind that this Planet belongs to my family and my people and you owe us everything you have, so for your own sake, you should address a Saiyan officer like Lord Kakarott properly.”

Mobor glanced at Goku and Trunks understood that the two men were used to informal behaviors. Goku grinned mockingly at the governor. “His Highness is right, Mobor. Remember I’m Lord Kakarott to you.”

Trunks repressed his urge to roll his eyes as Goku seemed to have a lot of fun there. Yet, that wasn’t the point. The point was to strain Mobor a little. And it did work.

“I forget myself, Your Highness. This won’t happen again. Allow me to give orders to welcome you properly,” Mobor resumed meekly with a swift bow. He walked to the door and they heard him talk to some servant outside in the corridor.

“An attractive guy with nasty habits. Be aware of him,” Goku whispered to Trunks.

Trunks peered at the figure of their host with a nod. “Duly noted, but we might need him all the same.”

Goku smirked. “Don’t worry about that. Let me do the talking.”

“Please, take a seat, Your Highness,” Mobor exclaimed as he came back to them with a servant carrying a tray with bottles and glasses in his wake.

They took place in the armchairs and Trunks was served with green alcohol. He winced at the burning sensation of the first sips and swiftly brushed away the tears forming in his eyes.

Mobor was savoring a strange copper-colored drink and after gulping down half of his glass he eventually eased off.

“No one told me Your Highness intended to come to Prius but I’ll do my best to please you,” he resumed in a warm voice. A seducing smile was now dancing on his lips and Trunks became aware that Goku had been right. The man was handsome. His perfect-shaped head was shaved while his flawless complexion was lit up by deep green eyes. He doubtlessly knew how attractive he was and he exuded strength and confidence. In other circumstances, it was the type of guy Trunks would gladly put into his bed.

“His Highness was a very close friend of my son and he was curious about this Planet,” Goku claimed, snatching Trunks back to reality.

The warrior had a glass of the same green liquid as Trunks and much to the Prince’s astonishment, he was nonchalantly sipping it as if he was drinking water. “However,” Goku carried on in a low voice, “the Prince wishes this little trip to remain confidential. That’s why you weren’t told about his visit. See, his relationship with my son isn’t the kind of attachment Vegitasei’s Council approve.”

Mobor cocked an eyebrow in interest and he ogled boldly Trunks’ frame with a knowing smirk on his face. He sneered. “I see, I never met your son, Lord Kakarott, but like father, like son, I guess.”

Goku frowned in annoyance. “Now, stop flirting or I annihilate these spotless teeth of yours. This is the Prince of Vegitasei, behave.”

Mobor nearly choked on his drink. He pulled himself together and he straightened up in his seat, his seductive attitude gone in the blink of an eye.

Trunks bit back his urge to laugh. Mobor was obviously a lewd guy and he had a hard time holding back. The young Prince couldn’t help but wonder what sort of nasty habits Goku had been talking about.

“As I said, this is a private trip for His Highness. He won’t have any company but mine during his stay on Prius, so be relieved, the Saiyan army won’t turn up again. Still, I don’t want you to break the news of his presence on Prius though,” Goku concluded.

Mobor squinted as he was processing the Saiyan’s explanation. “Let me put it straight. You don’t want the people of Prius to know that you’re on their Planet while His Highness and you are going to – what? Tour the mines and the toxic wastelands?”

“Whatever we’re going to do, I want you out of our business except if you’re asked for help. Remember, you’re responsible for the Prince’s safety as much as I am,” Goku replied coldly.

Mobor scowled nervously. “Lord Kakarott, I know you’re strong. You’re both amazing fighters no doubt, but believe me, Prius is no place to enjoy and you explored it from the inside out already, so what’s the point in taking insane risks while Vegitasei doesn’t really approve as you said? Your Highness, with all due respect –“

“Enough,” Trunks interrupted him. “Do you think we’re naïve and defenseless?”

Mobor pressed his lips in a thin line. “Of course not, Your Highness.”

“Then, shut up and obey,” Trunks snapped.

A heavy silence was his only reply until the door opened on a group of servants bringing huge dishes crowded with food. They set them down on the table under Goku’s careful scrutiny and disappeared wordlessly.

Goku rested down his glass and waved dismissingly at Mobor. “Now that you know everything you need to know, you can leave too. Don’t forget to hold your tongue and that also goes for your blue friend who saw us. I leave it to you to let him know.”

Mobor’s fingers clutched the armrest in contained annoyance. Not only was he stuck with the unwanted visit of the Prince and all the troubles that came with it, but he was also treated like a stooge. He stood up with a grim face and saluted the Saiyans with a little bow before exiting the room in turn.

As soon as they were alone, Trunks sighed. “I don't trust this guy. Just like you said, he's hot but there's something unclear about him.”

Goku chuckled and gulped down a mouthful of food. “Don't worry. Vegitasei scares him too much to try anything weird and you perfectly played Prince of all Saiyans.”

Trunks pouted. “Goku, I am indeed the Prince of all Saiyans, remember?”

Goku shrugged. “Well, yeah, it's just that I‘m not into these formal bullshits and the way you put Mobor in his place looked pretty badass. Very much like you father in a way.”

Trunks rubbed his face in weariness. Goku was definitely someone special. “Whatever,” the young man groaned, “I understand that you want our presence to remain a secret so that we lead our search the sly way but the ship will be there in a week and people will know that Saiyans are back, won’t they?”

Oblivious of his companion's concern, Goku was now wolfing down all the food he could grab. “Huh-huh. I’ll call the ship to tell them to head back to Vegitasei and pick us up in two months. They’ll never land on Prius,” he spluttered.

Trunks frowned in confusion. “What? – But then - Teeb will be mad, he’ll never accept,”

Goku smiled and swallowed in an ungraceful manner. “Speaking of formal bullshits, Teeb is a good watchdog, but other than that, he’s nothing. And I am a general. Besides, before we left Vegitasei, your father gave me free reins to lead this journey my way so the captain of the ship will do as I say. I told you, we don’t need Saiyan soldiers around.”

Trunks was slowly realizing that Goku had planned a lot of things behind his back and it somehow bothered him. Also, free reins? His father wasn't the trusting type. He would rather ask for constant reports even from his son. He wouldn’t give free reins to anyone. Of course, Goku wasn’t just anyone.

“Free reins?” Trunks repeated thoughtfully. “Does that mean your orders could overcome my own authority as a Prince?”

“Exactly. Vegeta cares for you more than you can imagine,” Goku confirmed with a nod, his mouth full of food again.

Trunks gritted his teeth. He felt like a puppet all of a sudden and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe Goku wasn’t just using him as an excuse to keep looking for Goten. Maybe, the warrior just intended to leave his weak, crippled Prince behind under the watch of that lustful dickhead of a governor while he would disappear and do all the job on his own. Goku was a master when it came to disappear. “What else do you have in mind?” Trunks asked in a dull voice.

“For now? Eat. Go on, it's delicious and you never know when or what the next meal will be,” the Saiyan answered cheerfully.

Trunks repressed a sigh. He was staring at Goku but Goku was ignoring him, focused on his plate. The prince reluctantly accepted his offer and he picked up a dish.

The food was weird but still very edible and as usual, his stomach welcomed it wholeheartedly. By the time Trunks had asked his questions, Goku had already devoured half of the meal and the dishes were soon emptied by both Saiyans.

Goku stretched and belched with a satisfied grin. “Mobor is an ass but hell, he knows for sure how to make a Saiyan happy,” he stated.

Trunks had to agree. He felt completely sated.

“Now, let me introduce you to the great Prius,” Goku claimed.

He stood up and walked to the bay window at the other end of the room. Trunks followed him with some curiosity.

The warrior slid the glass door open and stepped outside on a wide balcony.

Trunks was hit by the slight smell floating in the air. It was somehow acrid and each breathing scratched his throat.

The day seemed to reach its end. The sunlight was paling and giving way to a kind of dimness. They were high above the ground, at least on the tenth floor. Around them, a few towers were of the same height as them but most buildings were below, all of them made of a white stone. In the distance, the glistening blackness of Prisma was everywhere.

Trunks grabbed the railing and looked down. He could hardly make out the streets.

“See, the air is tainted by the Prisma, so the rich guys live on the upper floors to avoid breathing too much crap,” Goku explained as he stepped next to him.

“Even at that height, it kind of stinks,” Trunks pointed out.

Goku nodded. “Also, the white stone they use for the building is supposed to filter the poison coming from outside. It’s a very expensive thing and of course, only rich people can afford it. The higher, the whiter, the richer.”

Trunks studied the towers around him. The architecture was somewhat artistic but he noticed that the shades of white were indeed different. As he was contemplating the settings, Goku rested his arm around his shoulders. “This place is a shithole,” he whispered sternly.

Trunks shivered at the sound of the Saiyan's voice so close to his ear. Something had changed in the warrior’s attitude and the weight of his muscular arm across his shoulders made the younger male somehow uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“Take this,” Goku said.

Trunks looked down at the tiny sachet he was handing to him. “Sensu beans. I only have two,” Goku added while stuffing the little bag in the young man’s pocket.

“Why –“ Trunks started to ask, but he interrupted himself as he felt Goku’s hand gripping his shoulder tighter.

“Keep in mind, no one trusts Saiyans. Not on this Planet and not anywhere in the universe. We’re feared, we’re admired, we’re respected but we’re not trusted and even less loved,” Goku resumed, turning his face to him.

He grabbed Trunks’ jaw and looked him straight in the eyes. “I look much too Saiyan but I’m happy you don’t. You’ll have to do this on your own though.”

Trunks frowned and tried to back away but Goku’s hold on him was too strong. “What do you mean, Goku? You freak me out.”

Goku smiled at him. “Remember, don’t ever hint at who you are.”

A dull dread spread in Trunks’ guts. “Fuck Goku, stop your bullshit. You’ll come with me anyway, won’t you? I don’t even know this Planet and I’m too weak,” he objected forcefully.

Goku’s grin widened. “Yeah, even when it comes to strength, you look nothing like a Saiyan. That’s our luck. You improved a lot though and with a little effort, I bet that you can even fly by now.”

In the blink of an eye, the warrior flipped the young Prince over the railing, leaving him dangling in the air, face to face with the town. Trunks blurted a yelp of fear and he clutched Goku’s forearm pressed on his neck. “Goku! Fuck! Take me back!”

Goku was leaning forwards, his mouth just at the level of Trunks’ ear. “Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine. I’ll keep track of you from afar. If you need me, just let your ki flare up and I’ll be there. Otherwise, I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“Goku, don’t!” Trunks roared in realization, kicking the air in a pathetic try to find some support.

“Go get my son, boy,” Goku murmured.

Then he let go. His grip went loose and Trunks felt himself falling like a ton of bricks. His heart jumped inside his chest and he could hardly blurt a shriek at the slap of the air.

The adrenaline rushing in his veins helped him gather his ki and his drop slowed down a bit. His attempt to float was harshly interrupted as his back crashed against a wall, taking his breath away.

The pain electrified his body and he went back to a high-speed descent. He forced himself to focus back on his ki as the ground was getting closer, but he hit something else – a balcony maybe – bounced, and finally, his back slammed into the ground.

All air was knocked out of his lung and he remained still and dazed for a moment. He didn’t dare to move, fearing that his body might just be in shreds. He could say that something had cushioned his landing and by the smell of it, he guessed it was a pile of garbage.

Everything was silent around him while his eyes were wide opened on the sky above. It had turned a dim purple and some stars were now showing up. He blinked in shock as he slowly started to collect his wits.

Did Goku really just drop him from the tenth floor of the governor’s residence?

“Goten, your father’s totally nuts,” he murmured for himself.


End file.
